


A Weapon of Determination

by 34c



Category: Soul Eater, Undertale
Genre: Crossover, Mute Frisk, Other, Soul Eater AU, also frisk is pretty much the crona of this AU, also will add more characters as time goes on, sans is the only one here who knows ASL
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-12-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 00:20:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5226731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/34c/pseuds/34c
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Long ago, there lived two races. Humans and Monsters. The humans, fearful of the monsters' abilities to turn into weapons and wield them, trapped them in a barrier underground. There, monsters honed their skills and waited for seven human souls to fall so the barrier could be unlocked.</p><p>What happens though when a strange human with who can wield themselves as a weapon falls into the underground?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Fall and Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> the first chapter of my first fic series im nervous

“Asgore, you can’t be serious. This can’t be real.”

“Undyne, please. Calm…down.”

“Asgore, I’m not going to ‘calm down!’ This report it…can’t be…it can’t be real!” Someone’s pulling our leg!”

“Undyne…”

Undyne huffed and nearly ripped the scroll in half. Instead, her hands balled into fists around the edges of the paper. Her eyes locked at Asgore’s feet, still trying to comprehend the report’s contents.

“Humans…can’t…wield…soul weapons…” Undyne said, teeth gritted. “Their souls…aren’t…meant…to do so…”

Asgore sighed at the display.

“Everyone knows that Undyne…but…the report said a human with a soul weapon, and with that of a-!” He was interrupted by a pound of her fist against the wall.

“I know what the report says! I can read! I can read what’s written here, but I mean…what if this is just some sick joke?! A prank played on us to give some jerk a sick la-!”

Undyne stopped yelling, the realization fresh in her mind that she just disrespected her superior. She turned around and kneeled to the ground.

“Asgore I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t mean-!”

“Undyne, stop.” Asgore walked forward and looked down at her. “It’s alright. Just…do as I told you…please…go to Snowdin and just…”

“Investigate. You already told me. Yes sir.” Undyne paused for a bit, got up, bowed and then walked out right out of the throne room.

When Undyne arrived at Snowdin, the setting she faced was furthest from how she imagined it looking. The abandoned houses, hurried footsteps fresh in the snow, the smell of worry and metal: these all alerted her something was wrong, and that something was here.

Two seconds later, Undyne discovered the smell certainly was.

“Oh geez Papyrus, you seriously gotta cook in the middle of an evacuation…?” Sans said as he open the door as Undyne watched the smoke come out of the house. Papyrus followed close behind him, chirping in anger.

“Oh Sans really! We couldn’t leave without my wonderful cooking, we’d starve!” Papyrus waved around a plate with charred remains with every word. Sans couldn’t take the image seriously.

“Bro…we’d have food in Hotland. They have restaurants there.”

“It wouldn’t be as good as my cooking…” Papyrus said, sighing. He put down the plate, and both turned their attention to Undyne once they caught sight of her. “Undyne! Oh boy I’m so glad you’re here!”

Undyne just rolled her eyes and sighed. “Look Papyrus, I honestly don’t have time to chat. I’m looking for a human…a very specific one.”

“Oh? What human could that be?”

“Papyrus, the only human around here! What other human fell down here and is in Snowdin?!”

“Oh geez Undyne, I don’t know! We only got the evacuation warning! In fact we didn’t know there was a human here!”

‘Really…well I won’t put it past Papyrus…’ Undyne thought. She just sighed at the skeleton brothers on their cold porch.

“Well, there was. Move. Get to Hotland, get to safety. Get somewhere far away from here until the threat is neutralized.” Undyne pointed west, along the river. “Go.”

Sans, who hadn’t said a word to Undyne during the conversation between her and Papyrus, suddenly stepped up. “And how will you neutralize the threat without Dr. Alphys here…? As in, your spear…?”

“Wh-what are you saying, I have her with me, she’s right-!” Undyne quickly fumbled around her armor, then gasped with wide eyes at her carried weapon eyes like a fish out of water. The spear in her hands wasn’t her soul weapon. She didn’t have it. To specify, she didn’t have Dr. Alphys.

Sans and Papyrus snickered in playful unison at Undyne’s predicament. Undyne tried to look for a way to save herself from embarrassment, but swallowed her pride and shook in an attempt to stand straight like a commander. Before she could utter a word, Sans took a step towards her.

“Heh. I think you shoulda known she wouldn’t want to be in weapon form long enough for you to travel from the castle to Snowdin.” Undyne rolled her eyes as Papyrus stepped forward too.

Sans took a deep breath, kicked some snow, and made a gesture towards Papyrus. He jumped in the air, and in a flash of orange light, four skulls surrounded Sans.

“Hey Undyne, me and my brother will help. We can hold our own like this.”

“Yeah Undyne! We really would love to help, and you can’t go at something alone without your weapon!” Papyrus said, muffled as the skulls twitched with his words.

Undyne sighed and beckoned the two to follow her north. She started to whisper.

“Fine then! Stay very close behind me…this thing supposedly went north to try and catch the boat person.” Sans nodded.

Undyne tiptoed through the snow, never letting her presence leave the side of the houses. She could see the ice station a ways from her, the bear tending it obviously not there.

She then started hearing footsteps. Small, tiny, innocent sounding feet paced around the snow in the little area in the northern most part of Snowdin. Undyne poised herself to strike and wrestle with the creature, thinking it was some huge, burly creature of massive proportions who just happened to have some tiny feet.

Sans felt the tenseness in Undyne. Papyrus did too. Sans poised the gasterblasters high behind Undyne, waiting for any cue she needed help. His right eye started to glow.

Undyne crept around the trees.

‘Closer…closer…closer..!’ Undyne’s face contorted into a snarled expression, with a mixture of fear and hope. ‘This…human will not be the end of this world!’ Undyne crept closer, and closer to the creature. And when Undyne caught a glimpse of the creature’s brown hair, she leapt.

Undyne expected to be faced with someone larger. She expected someone frightening, especially considering how the report was worded. She didn’t expect this. She didn’t expect the human to be so…small.

But there they stood. A small child, with messy hair, tiny little hands, and a bandage on their knee. When Undyne leapt at them and missed, the child fell down into the snow. They stared at Undyne for a bit, then got up. They tried to run away.

“Sans, Papyrus, get them! Ugh, get the human!” The human ran south, only to meet the skeleton brothers in a head on confrontation. Sans was confused at the sight of them.

“Uh…Undyne…” Sans lowered the gasterblasters as he spoke. “You sure this human is what we are looking for? They’re…kinda small.” Sans stared at the small person as he spoke. He wasn’t sure what to do with them.

“Yes! Get them!” Undyne was struggling to get up, her armor nearly frozen to her skin. She’d never been in Snowdin in full armor.

Meanwhile, the child stood frozen in front of Sans. They didn’t know how to act. Sans saw their confusion, and most importantly, fear, so he dropped the gasterblasters and held out his hand. Papyrus switched out of his weapon form and stood behind Sans with a big grin on his face.

“Hey kid. What’s your name?” Sans asked, hand still out. The child didn’t take his hand. Instead, they signed their name.

“F-R-I-S-K.” They signed slowly. Sans put his hand back at his side and took two steps towards them.

“Frisk, huh? Nice name. Tell that to Undyne.” Undyne scoffed at the statement, and finally lifted herself up out of the snow. “Hey Undyne, guess this human isn’t so bad after all. I mean they-“

Sans was interrupted by the gurgling noise of a black substance that started to leak out of Frisk’s back, which started to take form and color. Undyne took a step back, spear raised.

The form spat as it continued to solidify. “You idiot, Sans. That’s not my name. My name is Chara-!”

Chara looked down at Frisk and screamed.


	2. Unpleasant Discovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning here for what is going to be descriptions of graphic violence. It's at the end though.

They started to scream.

Chara screamed, and screamed, and screamed some more. They brutally tried to rip themselves off of Frisk, who also had no idea what was going on and wanted away from the unexpected visitor on their back. Chara tried to lunge at Sans, but failed, anchored by Frisk’s adamant position.

“Let me go you little rotten thing! I own you! I own you! Your soul is mine!” Chara kept trying to bite and scratch Sans.

Sans stepped back in surprise and a bit of disgust, wondering why they lunged at him, of all people.

Everyone else just stared in shock and dismay.

“Wait…” Undyne stopped for a minute and started to tap in her foot in hasty pondering. A second later, her yellow eyes filled with realization.

“Chara…no, wait, you’re the-!” Undyne was trying to comprehend exactly what was happening. Chara was the name of the human who Asgore and his wife had taken care of. Why were they here?

“Fallen child you bag of rotten sushi. And this little thing’s soul is mine!” Chara was waving back and forth out of the substance that had emerged from Frisk’s back. “I want this thing’s soul!”

“Well you won’t get it.” Frisk signed. They looked at Sans for help. Sans shrugged and backed up some more, as if to say “that thing is your problem.” Frisk just sighed.

Undyne was still trying to believe the display in front of her. Not only was the fallen child evil, but they were soulless?

Undyne ignored the questions running through her head.

“I don’t have time for this!” She yelled. Undyne froze for a few more seconds, staring intently at Frisk. Sans and Papyrus just stood there, waiting for Undyne’s next move.

She instinctively threw her spear at Frisk’s foot, and landed a perfect hit. She slowly smiled a toothy grin at her aim, until she saw something leak from the spear’s target. Black liquid, thick as blood, oozed out from the wound. Frisk looked scared, as if they thought they were supposed to take damage, and Chara looked surprised for a moment. They threw their arm at Undyne.

“Bloody needle!” Chara screamed, and out of the black liquid shot several long needles. They had horrible aim, and the needles only singed Undyne’s hair. Chara grimaced in their position above Frisk, and kept throwing the black needles at her in hopes to get clearer shots.

But Undyne wasn’t a sitting duck, and quickly caught onto the act. She started to block the needles with her armor, relieved to find out they weren’t strong enough to pierce metal. Chara kept battering Undyne with needles, and Undyne kept blocking them with her armor until Chara started to tire. Which didn’t take long. Chara slowed down to a stop, finding out they couldn’t hurl anything else at Undyne. Which didn’t make sense to them; they weren’t supposed to tire. They were an unstoppable force.

But Undyne was the immovable object, and as soon as the needle volley stopped, she started to say something.

“What…”

“The hell…” Sans nearly finished her statement.

“Was that? Asgore always told us humans bleed red! I mean!” Papyrus shapeshifted out of the gasterblasters and landed feet first in the snow. “Is this even a human?”

“No!” Chara said.

“Yes.” Frisk signed. They also tried to sign they had little to no idea who Chara was and why they bled black liquid instead of ruby red blood.

“That doesn’t matter! What matters is that you, no…that thing stuck in you…or…whatever, slaughtered all the monsters in the ruins and threatened the safety of Snowdin!” Undyne grabbed a random pole and pounded it into the ground as if it was her spear. Her breath started to get heavy.

“You’re a threat to all monster’s hope! And all threats to that must be destroyed!” Undyne poised the pole high in the air. Her eye caught a nearby house with a low roof. She jumped onto it, glaring straight down at Frisk and Chara. Her glare looked as sharp as the very same spears she fought with on a daily basis. And in all of her actions, Undyne didn’t hesitate or stumble. Her positon on the house, to Sans and Papyrus, looked noble and commanding.

“Not to mention…your human soul…” She readied the pole to throw.

“Is just all we need to break the barrier!” She started yelling to the cavern sky. “We will be free from this place at last! SO DIE!” Frisk had no idea what Undyne was talking about. But that didn’t matter.

At that point, Undyne delivered the pole from where she stood straight into Frisk’s skull, with Chara's form dissipating on impact.


	3. Failure to Kill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would advise if you're not one for reading about gore about a small child's splattered brain that you should skip the first part of this.

There was a gross crack. Sans heard it, and looked away just before the blow. He saw Papyrus do the same. 

‘I know why he’s looking away but me…? Guess I haven’t and really don’t want to see everything…” Sans thought. He didn’t know whether to berate or congratulate himself.

Undyne however, didn’t let the body leave her sight. She glowered at the child lumped on the ground, disgusted at the sight of the gray matter that leaked from the blow to the head. Frisk’s brain matter was splattered all over the impact site, with some reaching as far as several yards from it. Undyne was grossed out; monsters only ever turned to dust. There was no gorey, sticky mess to clean up. She spit out the salvia in her mouth.

“Blugh. That’s disgusting. More brutal than the others. Sans! Papyrus! Come clean this-!” She paused and looked around for something.

“Wait! Where is the soul?!” She barked. Undyne was tired of strange occurrences and happenings. They had happened too much over the past hours for her. With this human soul, when they found it, all monsters could rid the surface of humanity. They could break the barrier and look up to see sky.  
A wide open, authentic sky.

“Is it too much for your stupid soul to just give itself up?! C’mon!” Undyne stomped her foot on the top of the roof. She waited, and waited, and waited. No soul appeared. The splattered brains just laid there, same as they were a while ago. Undyne noticed they seemed to smell, all the way from her position on the house and grunted. She jumped off the roof near Frisk’s body, now being fully aware of a heavy, metallic odor that literally seemed to blanket the splatter. She kicked the head, then shook it off, disgusted at the thought of getting brain on her shoe.

“You’re more than a human…y-you’re a pain in my-!” She stopped. Her eyes, still locked with the body, saw something twitch.

Undyne circled the body, watching the black liquid from before being leaked out from the head. Within a few seconds, enough liquid oozed to cover the wound. Frisk’s hand twitched.  
And then they started to get up. Frisk raised their small head from the mass of oozing substance, shook their head free of it, and pulled the pole out of their head. Undyne’s thoughts started to race as she saw the body reanimate.

‘Is this little brat trying to defy me and humiliate me…? WELL IT WON’T WORK!’ As soon as Undyne finished her thought, she took the pole straight from Frisk’s hands and smacked them clean across the face. Frisk flew.

Undyne was satisfied with herself. Frisk groaned from the blow, a dull sensation buzzing in their head. They couldn’t tell which way was up or down.  
Undyne marched over to Frisk with a big, toothy grin on her face, readying the pole again for another strike. Before she struck again however, she noticed Frisk had no bruise. Undyne hesitated for a second, staring at the unbruised, unwounded body lying on the ground. 

Frisk turned over and groaned in their dizziness. Undyne started to shake, for some reason unable to strike again. She looked up at Sans and Papyrus, who had since turned their heads to look at the scene. Undyne’s breathing started to get funny as she felt the two’s stares, especially Papyrus’, so she lowered the pole and glared down at Frisk.

“Alright…human. Instead of beating you over and over again, I’ve decided to be…nice.” Undyne huffed at Frisk, who now managed to stand up completely. They turned to Undyne, unfazed by her menacing presence in her armor. Frisk was unfazed from everything from before: the pole through their skull, and the blow from Undyne. Neither seemed to do any damage to them.

Undyne collected herself as she watched Frisk stare absentmindedly at her.

“Instead of killing you, you will reside in the King’s dungeons. That’s my offer, and you will take it! Papyrus! Please help me escort the human to the castle. I need someone to make sure they don’t run away.” Papyrus jumped at her offer, and ran over to Frisk. Papyrus gently took their hand. Frisk's whole hand was barely bigger than his thumb.

“Human! It’s such a big honor to be escorted to the castle with Undyne! No one’s been allowed to do that in such a long time! Oh, this will be fun!” Papyrus smiled wildly at Frisk. “And with the Great Papyrus’ guidance, you will have the ultimate level of safety!” 

He picked up a confused and flustered Frisk and carried them against his chest, looking at Undyne for approval. Undyne…couldn’t say no to his face. He was happy, seemingly more so that the human wasn’t hurt. She sighed and marched forward on a route to the castle.

Papyrus winked and waved at Sans, who just gave him a thumbs up. Papyrus followed after Undyne, carrying his small human cargo like a precious jewel.  
“So, human!”

“Their name is Frisk.” Undyne said as they walked.

“Frisk! Why did you fall down into a place like this? Did you want us to capture you?”

Frisk shrugged and then shook their head. Papyrus cocked his head.

“So what’s that thing in your back? Why is there…a thing there? In your back?”

Frisk shrugged again. Papyrus looked to Undyne. “Hey Undyne, do you know why they have a thing in their back?” 

She shook her head and internally cursed Papyrus for sweet-talking the human and carrying them like a Temmie. This was a threat. A dangerous threat! She obviously didn’t expect him to take the ordeal seriously but this level of…him just rubbed her the wrong way. She figured it was the circumstances.

She let him talk on and on though. Papyrus babbled to Frisk about spaghetti, his brother, his ‘greatness’ and literally everything he could think of. Undyne payed attention to him barely enough to hear him slip some compliments about her.

Frisk just laid back in Papyrus’ arms and took in their surroundings. They listened to him point out landmarks, what reminded him of spaghetti and what reminded him of his brother. After a long while, they came to the edge of Waterfall leading into Hotland.

“Hey Papyrus, you go on. It’s too hot for me in armor. Head to Asgore’s castle and drop the human in the dungeon.” Papyrus nodded and saluted Undyne, heading straight for the elevator after the goodbye. He held onto Frisk the whole time, unsure of whether or not they were nervous. He assumed they were.

“Look, human. It’ll be alright. The dungeon isn’t that bad. Asgore keeps it clean, and there will be food! Maybe I can come by and talk to you. The great Papyrus cold bring some of his cooking to share!”

The elevator dinged, and the door opened. Papyrus stepped out, continuing to talk. “And I could bring Sans to see you, and maybe we could play some games. Do you like games…uh, Frisk?” Frisk nodded. Papyrus let out a woop.

“Yay! I could go by the dump and see if someone threw a game down here. Don’t worry about your stay in the dungeon! I’ll make sure you aren’t lonely.” Frisk looked up at Papyrus and smiled. They didn’t know someone could be so kind and welcoming. They turned over in his grasp. Papyrus adjusted himself so they would be comfortable.  
And so they walked. 

Papyrus continued to walk for a long time. The most notable thing among all the cogs, gears, lava and heat was a hotel Frisk saw with a broken fountain spilling water everywhere. The air smelled nice and pleasant. Papyrus quickly walked north of the broken fountain and entered the beginning of the core.

“Just a little longer Frisk. Don’t fall asleep! We’re almost there!” And Frisk didn’t. Instead, they just took in the faint smell of ozone, the faint blue light, and the anticipation of their destination.


	4. Horrible Rememberings

Frisk saw Papyrus as a generous, if not quirky friend. They liked his determination and loved how he spoke. They held onto him tightly, the patter of boots becoming a rhythmic tune to Frisk’s ears.

Papyrus reached the elevator to the castle pretty quickly. By that time, Frisk had become accustomed to the smell of ozone and the bright blue of the surroundings. The freshness of the castle elevator, when Papyrus stepped in, was off putting. Frisk rubbed their face on Papyrus’ chest and waved their hands around. Papyrus addressed the face rubbing after he pressed some buttons.

“Nervous huh? Well geez, I am too! I haven’t seen the king in ages…I heard he’s okay.” Frisk didn’t know whether Asgore was just an okay guy, or whether or not his health could have been better. Papyrus didn’t elaborate.

The elevator dinged and Papyrus stepped out into the long, gray path. Large gray buildings seemed to fill the sides and skies. Frisk pulled Papyrus’ scarf and pointed to the path’s sides, as if to say be careful.

“Oh? The sides? Yeah they don’t have guardrails! Don’t worry though!” Papyrus pumped his fist in the air and began walking down the long, spanning path to the castle. Frisk enjoyed the quiet, with only the gentle wind making any sound.

They soon reached the castle. Frisk was somewhat tired; their little eyes drooped a bit in Papyrus’ arms. There was a gray corridor in front of them lonely and empty. Although the path was just the same, Frisk sensed this place was different in the kind of loneliness that inhabited the air. They shuddered.

Papyrus put them down. Frisk yawned and stretched themselves out on ground, then got up and shook their head to get rid of any grit. They looked to Papyrus to lead.

Papyrus took the cue and the two walked into the throne room. Frisk had to squint upon entering; there were flowers that were awfully bright in comparison to the grey walls. After quickly getting used to the color, Frisk noticed Asgore in the middle of the room. The flowers besides him were wet.

He turned around slowly in surprise and started to address the pair.

“Papyrus…? A human…?” He said in confusion. He held a lavender watering can in his right hand. 

“Um…what are you doing here? And is this the human Undyne was supposed to kill…?” Papyrus nodded.

“Yeah! But we ran into…complications. I don’t think any of us could kill this human if we wanted to!”

Asgore paused, and blinked at the statement. “What…do you mean…? This looks like a regular human.” He walked slowly towards the two and rubbed his paw all over Frisk’s head. Frisk wiggled their head in response, smiling. Asgore was silent.

“Well…the human kept regenerating. Undyne put a pole through them and nothing! They got up and started attacking Undyne! Well…” Papyrus gently touched Frisk’s back.

“Not this human specifically.”

“So there’s two?”

“No.”

“So what’s the problem here then…? I don’t follow you Papyrus.” He rubbed the little child’s head a little bit harder, smiling a little bit. Frisk was so small, so sweet. Asgore liked them. He really hoped he wouldn’t have to kill them at any point. Someone else could take over that duty.

Frisk started to shake. They removed Asgore’s hand from their head and started to cough into their hands. An audible gurgling noise emanated from their back and Frisk shook more. Like they were scared of something. Asgore and Papyrus stepped back.

Frisk stopped shaking, and took a wobbled step towards Asgore. They fell on their face. A black liquid shot out of their back, and started to shape itself.

“…d-da…”

Chara formed. Their fluffy chocolate hair and ruby eyes pierced straight at Asgore. He felt that his heart stopped.

“Dad…?” 

Asgore couldn’t find any words. The fallen child? How?

Chara stretched themselves towards him, only stopping within a few feet of his large violet cape, which drawled around his large body like a theater curtain. Chara looked for some sign of approval from the tall creature. They looked for some of sign he was glad to see them.

‘He still loves me right? Does Asgore still love me…?’ Chara thought, their heart filled with optimism.

Asgore couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t look at Chara for more than a few seconds. Memories flashed before their eyes: of Chara’s fall, of the buttercup incident, of their son Asriel frolicking and playing with Chara like it was his last day on earth. 

Chara reminded him of Asriel. Chara reminded him of his wife. Chara reminded him of the happier times. His heart ache and twisted with bittersweet memories of Toriel and Asriel, and most of all Chara. He remembered them all eating in the living room, stuffing their faces with warm butterscotch-cinnamon pie.

He turned away from Chara, whose face dropped. Chara felt their heart sink.

“Ch…Cha….Child…” Asgore said, choked from the tears that had begun to form on his face. “Leave. Leave…b-before I…” Asgore knelt down on the ground and covered his face with his hands, away from the view of everyone in the room. “Leave before I…I…”

Chara’s face pinched up in sadness and anger. “You what?! Kill me?! That’s not possible you stupid animal! Someone stronger than you already tried that and-and…look how far it got them! LOOK HOW FAR IT GOT THEM!” Chara yelled. They fell to the ground and cried in the golden flowers, whose petals seemed like teacups for the tears of both people crying at the moment. Chara couldn’t even smell their delicious, sweet, buttery smell. They could only smell the salt from their tears.

Chara bawled loudly. Asgore cried softly. Papyrus wanted to cry, but he knew there was no reason to. Chara’s face became sticky from the pollen of the flowers, but they didn’t care.

Asgore got up off his knees without looking at the two. He couldn’t stop the tears forming on his face, which in turn, meant he couldn’t stop his voice from wavering. He started to speak to Papyrus.

“Papyrus…pl-please take th-this child to the…dungeon…s-s-s-see that they’re…taken care of…” 

Papyrus jumped at the offer, and silently congratulated himself inside. He walked over to Chara and tried to pick them up. When he tried to grab their waist, Chara shrieked. They turned over and hit Papyrus. 

“Bl-blood…bl-bloody...” Chara tried to finish their sentence, but found no motivation to. They were too sad, so they decomposed into a puddle of black liquid. Papyrus waited a moment to see if Frisk came to or if Chara came back.

Frisk did come to. They had no idea what was going on. Was this…Asgore? The large creature in front of them…did even Frisk talk to him? Why was he crying?

Papyrus grabbed Frisk as soon as they woke up. Frisk tried to wiggle free of Papyrus’ grasp, but Papyrus held on strong enough to prevent that from happening. As Papyrus walked down a western corridor, Frisk tried to turn around to see Asgore again. They couldn’t. 

They clung to Papyrus as he headed towards the dungeon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chara's actions in this chapter on based upon my headcanon of whatever awakens them (in this case being an entity attached to frisk and literally part of their bloodstream) determines how they see and view others. 
> 
> So in this case, we get a Chara who's not too happy their adopted Dad isn't happy to see them. :)


	5. The Dungeon

Papyrus held onto Frisk as he walked down the stairs. The dungeons, built long ago and only ever used to detain monsters who were upset by the conditions of the underground, had not been used in years. No one, not even the old Gerson, remembered a time where the dungeons held anyone behind its bars.

And it was easy to tell. The floor was slippery with bluish moss, which had since filled the air with so much humidity Papyrus felt it drip off his bones. He held Frisk protectively, shielding their head with his glove. He didn’t want them to get sick. He heard humans could catch some pretty nasty ailments. 

A long trek down the stairs through the sticky, damp halls took Papyrus to the first cell of the dungeon. It was rusted, covered with mold, with only a small window at the top of the opposite wall. The top bars had also rusted away.  
He shook his head at the conditions.

“Why this is no condition for a cell to be in! This is disgusting! It’s damp, and sticky, and humid and, and…disgusting!” Papyrus stumbled over his words in observant shock, still looking around the cell to see if anything else was deteriorated. 

He couldn’t leave the human in here, they would get sick!

Frisk rubbed their head against Papyrus’ glove and poked it out so they could see. They took a breath and sneezed, rubbing their nose into his glove. Papyrus yelped, and waved his hand around.

“Ugh, Frisk you-you! You you…” Papyrus looked around again at the condition of the dungeon’s cells and then looked back at Frisk. They had started shivering since peeking their head out. Papyrus never felt cold, but he guessed Frisk could certainly feel something. He sighed, and started to walk back up the stairs.

Frisk signed at Papyrus, asking now where they would have to go. If the cells weren’t good enough, where to? Papyrus didn’t understand them, but guessed they didn’t want to be here either. He calmly held onto them as he continued to walk back up to the throne room. Frisk made themselves comfortable in Papyrus’s arms, guessing they would be there for a while.

When Papyrus got back up to the throne room, he was relieved Asgore was nowhere to be found. He had hoped the human and Asgore wouldn’t have another meeting; he wasn’t sure Asgore could take it. 

“Oh gee, I hope the king isn’t crying somewhere…” He said to himself. Papyrus wondered what the king did every day, as he was alone all hours of the day. All by himself. Alone. Papyrus couldn’t bear the thought of being alone without Sans or Undyne and he wondered how Asgore did it.

Papyrus didn’t keep the thought too long. He crossed the throne room over to the eastern hall, a long, narrow hallway filled with doors that looked like they hadn’t been used in years, just like the dungeon. 

Papyrus decided to open the first door he saw. To his surprise, it was unlocked. And better yet, Papyrus saw a little sliding peephole near the top that was perfect for checking up on Frisk, should this be the place they would stay.

He gently opened the door, leaning down towards the ground so that Frisk could get down. Papyrus saw toys. He saw watering cans. He saw things that seemed perfect for a child to play with; all glinted dimly in the light of lightbulbs needing to be replaced. But he wasn’t quite sure who they were for, or who they even belonged to. Asgore? Maybe they belonged to his son. Papyrus had never paid much mind to the talk of Asgore’s dead son, and before he saw the toys, he forget Asgore did have one.

Frisk, who now had already been placed down on the ground, ran forward. They grabbed a little plush bunny and started mouthing a song. They also grabbed a tin watering can and placed the bunny in it, and lifted it up like an airplane in their small yellow hands. They made an engine noise with their tongue, imitating take off. Papyrus was amazed. 

“Oh, so that’s what an airplane sounds like? Do it again!” He exclaimed. Frisk nodded, and flew the bunny-watering can duo around again, making the same sounds effects. Papyrus clapped his hands. 

“Oh boy! That’s so cool! Say, Frisk, could I maybe play with you? It’d be fun! Maybe we could play with that-” He stopped in the middle of his sentence, just as a long shadow fell over him. 

“Oh. Ahem, human! I will be back to give you necessities later! From now on, I am your dungeon master, and this is your cell!” Papyrus gently shut the door. He slide open the peephole and winked at Frisk, then gently shut it. He walked down the long hall, and started talking to the creature who made the shadow. Frisk only heard muffled whispers, but guessed it was Asgore, giving Papyrus instructions. 

Frisk just continued playing with the toys given to them, unaware of something that wanted to be awake.


	6. Something's wrong...

It was about two hours until Chara appeared. Frisk, who was preoccupied with their toys, didn’t notice the weight on their back. They only noticed it when Chara took away their toy.

“Hey, little leech. These are my toys! Asgore gave them to me!” Chara zipped the stolen toy around in the air like a prize. They grinned like it was a prize, like they accomplished something by taking Frisk’s toy away. 

But Frisk just grabbed another toy. Chara scrunched their face up in disgust, angry that their attempt to bully Frisk didn’t work. They threw the watering can down on the ground, giving it a serious dent. The bunny inside looked sad and defeated. Chara wished Frisk looked like that.

 

“Hey! You can’t play with anything! An-y-thing!” Chara turned around and hit Frisk in the head, who just kept stroking their new toy. Chara got more agitated. They wanted Frisk to be unhappy and lonely. They want Frisk to hate existence, just like they did when they were alive. They wanted Frisk to cry and beg for their mommy.

Frisk did none of that. They just kept stroking their toy, just as before.

‘Why is this child so stubbornly determined? Do they want to see me suffer?! Do they?!’ Chara thought. They hit Frisk again on the head. Frisk however, still didn’t dodge, move, or even seemed to acknowledge Chara at all. They just kept playing with their toy, stroking the petals.

“Hey! You! Can’t! Play! With! ANYTHI-!” Chara stopped. They caught sight of the toy in Frisk’s hands, which seemed out of place. It seemed odd. It seemed…real. Chara swore the petals on the ‘toy’ were genuine. 

Frisk turned their head around in confusion at why Chara didn’t finish their sentence. Chara just kept staring at the thing in Frisk’s hands. Frisk got the gesture and looked down at what they holding and realized what they were stroking earlier wasn’t a toy. They let go of it and gasped quietly.

The ‘toy’ wiggled around. Its smooth, pale yellow surface dissipated to reveal a pair of dot eyes, along with a deviously mischievous line thin smile. Its smile stretched across its face warmly. Chara didn’t trust the smile. 

Chara glared at the flower creature as it started to speak.

“Howdy! I’m Flowey, but hey! You probably already know that!” Flowey giggled at the two. “What a mess you’re in, being all connected! Invincible, untouchable, lonely, mean…” He looked straight at Frisk.

“And you! Oh I remember you! Back in the…ruins. You just mowed down everything, didn’t you?” Chara pointed to themselves, drawing away Flowey’s attention before Frisk could answer.

“No! It was me! I had control of them! I slaughtered everyone in the ruins! ME! ME ME ME ME ME ME!” Chara waved their hands around at the statement, as if to be threatening. A wide smile was etched across their face, their ruby eyes gleaming with pride.  
“I was the one…who slaughtered them all.”

“Yeah, and now you’re stuck to an idiot. Good going!” Flowey snickered at his own joked as Chara huffed in embarrassment, and mostly, denial. “But seriously Chara, not even a soulless being like could make it here. Ever. “

“Of course I could. Watch.” Chara came down to Frisk’s level and pinched them until blood came out. Frisk squirmed, and tried to push Chara away, which failed. Chara silently shot bloody, black projectiles at Flowey from the tiny wound.

Flowey dodged the projectiles with ease. Chara grunted at his success, and shot more. They thrust their arms at him, and with every thrust, more needles shot out. Chara did it again, and again, and again, until they tired. Flowey laughed shrilly in triumph, throwing his head back. He met the pair’s gaze before he spoke again.

“Oh man, this is fun! C’mon Chara, do that again! Let’s go at it like the old days!”

Chara froze.

“The…old days?” They cocked their head suspiciously at Flowey. Flowey froze, his twisting movements stopped.

“Oh…I must have…made a mistake, huh? Psh, autocorrect.”

“This is a verbal conversation.” 

Flowey sneered at the comment, his smile slipping into a frown. He slipped back into the ground and appeared closer to Frisk and Chara. He extended his stem from the ground, revealing more leaves and thorns. He quickly pushed himself into Chara’s face, a toothy grin spreading across his face.

“Anyway…I believe…” His voice plunged in tone, and sounded more like a growl. “Now that introductions are out of the way…I believe you want something, fallen child. Something I could provide.” He laughed, and as he did so, vines unearthed out of the ground beneath him and grabbed Frisk. They lifted their chin up and displaced the old toys in the room and broke apart the old tile as they did so.

“This?” Flowey jerked Frisk’s face forward. Chara couldn’t come out of Frisk’s body any more than the degree which they were separated from Frisk, so the half way view the two had of each other would have to do. Frisk whined and winced in Flowey’s grip, the thorns drawing more and more black blood, even more than the wound Chara drew before. The oozing blood allowed Chara to remedy their view, now extending themselves to get a full view of Frisk. Chara’s smile grew wide.

“…control…” They barely whispered.

 

“Yes. That can be yours.” 

 

“…the soul…” Chara reached out towards Frisk, who by now had stained the vines pitch black with what was an endless fountain of black blood. Frisk whined again, partially choked by the liquid pouring from their wounds. Flowey pulled the thorns against Frisk tighter, forcing more of the oozing blood into their mouth. Frisk coughed and sputtered, trying to get rid of it and struggled against the thorns.

Flowey now took up the whole room. His thorns had crushed many of the toys under their weight, and also threatened the structural integrity of the whole place. The door threatened to break open and unleash a flurry of slithering thorny vines throughout the palace. 

Frisk, who was really just a ball of black blood now, choked under the increasing liquid entering their lungs. Chara however, looked ravenous.

“Give it to me it! Flowey! GIVE ME THE SOUL!” Chara screamed, hyped up on the racing thoughts going through their head. Their eyes started leaking something, and Flowey nodded in response. He tugged at Frisk with his thorns.

“Allllllrighty! Ok, so, close your eyes!” Flowey said, giggling. Chara did exactly as they were told, their chest bursting with anticipation and their eyes leaking more of the mysterious substance. 

Deep breaths. Chara took deep breaths, awaiting the appearance of the soul. They could feel their body ache for something to fill its core; Chara was more than happy to oblige their body that. They couldn’t wait.

And neither could Flowey. As soon as Chara’s eyes were closed, he waved his head around, which started to grow to twice Chara and Frisk’s size, and his smile went along with it. It stretched so wide his face seemed almost unable to contain it. 

And his teeth grew along as well. They were as big as Frisk’s head now.

“Perfect.” Flowey murmured, in a booming, glitched voice that replaced his simple growl from before.

“Wait, wha-” Chara didn’t have time to open their eyes in time. The instant they said their first word was the instance Flowey dove headfirst, teeth bared, to literally consume Frisk’s soul. The soul shined a brilliant crimson as Flowey dove, and everything else in his view faded to black. 

Chara opened their eyes for a brief moment, but by then it was too late to stop him. They saw a blur of gold, mixed with teeth, heading towards a bright red light.  
The image of what they wanted so badly being taken away from them seemed to rip them in half. Chara felt nonexistence was at the door again; they felt the weight of the darkness once again beneath their feet. Chara would physically shake if the vines holding them would allow so, and they would run and retreat into the corner if that was possible.

All they could do now was witness their prize being taken away, ripped out of their grasp when they were so close to getting it. They felt an even more painfully violent sensation when they saw Flowey’s massive jaws crunch around the soul. It was his now.

But it refused. The soul shined, barely. Against Flowey’s pale yellow face, a red light could still be made out.

Chara didn’t know what happened. And what happened next, whether it was God, fate, or just plain luck, was beyond both Chara and Flowey. And it sounded like an orange getting stabbed with a knife.

Flowey had a large, black needle impaling his entire face. It had shot through his open mouth, extending all the way to the back, going as far as to almost reach the ceiling. The vines froze in place, no longer growing, no longer displacing the toys that had all nearly been destroyed by the massive weight of the vines. Time even seemed to stand still. Flowey’s massive black eyes, with their white pupils, shakenly looked down at what had done the deed.

Chara did too, just as shaken as Flowey and just as surprise when they locked view with the culprit.

Flowey and Chara’s eyes met at Frisk. They were holding their hand up towards Flowey’s face, waist covered in their own blood, as if to summon heaven for help against the devil. Frisk swiftly moved their arms down to extract the large needle from Flowey’s face, and swung their arm across the room. The needle came down and the large Flowey collapsed, swinging across the room with the ease of a baseball bat against a baseball.

The vines fell, all cut and with their source incapacitated. Chara was pulled to a more comfortable position behind Frisk’s back, watching the severed vines exploded into fine white dust. They cowered behind Frisk. 

Frisk grabbed Flowey’s large stem and watched as the flower shrank, with the hole in his face going along with it. Soon, Frisk held a normal sized Flowey. Flowey came to, and as Frisk was the first thing they saw, contorted his face into the same horrifying grin as before. He was ready to volley the two with bullets if he had to. And his grin seemed to be even wider than before.

Frisk did nothing with the creature in their hands. They didn’t hurt it, they didn’t launch any needles at it, they didn’t even move. Frisk just simply stared at Flowey. Flowey met Frisk’s gaze, eager to put his ‘friendliness pellets’ up Frisk if he needed to. They locked gazes for what Chara thought was hours. The two just stared at each other, the only noise in the room being Frisk’s breathing and heartbeat.

Chara didn’t dare move. Their head barely poked out from behind Frisk. After an indefinite amount of time, Chara dared to open their eyes to peer at the flower Frisk held in their grasp. 

Their eyes opened to something odd. Chara, as soon as they saw it, broke the restrained silence and moved Frisk’s arm to one of Flowey’s petals. Flowey’s toothy grin and bulging eyes faded into a thin, simple line frown and dot eyes. He looked surprised at the child who was now stroking one of his petals.

“Y-you’re…n-not Flowey…” Chara’s voice shook as they spoke. They steadily gained confidence to stop stuttering, but it didn’t help much with the image of a monstrous Flowey still in their minds.

“F-Flowey’s petals are…” They moved Frisk’s fingers to stroke the petals, and doing so exposed an off color patch of Flowey’s petals.

“Gold.” Frisk gasped at the relevation, which they saw was true. Flowey’s petals had taken on a paste gray at the edge of his petals, and the yellow that remained seemed sun-washed and faded. Flowey’s once pale, warm yellow center was now a faded gray. Flowey’s face dropped, and his eyes scrunched up in nervousness. As if something was watching. He frantically searched Frisk’s eyes for something Chara and Frisk couldn’t tell, and when he found nothing, he blew up thorns in the hands that held his stem. 

Frisk flinched and pulled away from the sudden, surprising pain. They looked at their hands and back up to Flowey.

But instead of seeing the odd flower they saw once before, they witnessed a massive spray of white bullets that barraged them like hail. They blacked out and were knocked back to the floor from the impact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i tried to up my writing game here, can you tell?


	7. -------------

Flowey barely had time to compose himself from his failure. And worst of all, his discovery. He shuddered at his defeat, the massive, black needle that impaled him looming high in his mind. He never wanted to feel that sensation again. 

He popped his head up above black ground. The area he was in stretched for miles in infinite directions that, as far as he was concerned had no end. 

It only had a resident. 

“Your brilliance…?”

Something quietly groaned. 

“Y-Your brilliance! My sir, f-forgive me, for I failed. I didn’t consume the human’s soul.” Flowey turned downwards, away from the sky, head hung in shame. And fear.

“I…what?”

“No…I-I never thought of that. I was in the castle…really I should have done that!”

“I’ll go do that! Right now! To make up for my-! Wait, no?”

“A-are you lonel-yah!”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I should never remind you of your condition, of course!” Flowey began to glitch in and out. Portions of his body seemed to displace themselves in random intervals. It was painful, but Flowey kept up his composure as much as his little flower body could handle.

“………..I understand you, your knowledgeable. Oh, t-that doesn’t sound right, but what should I-“

“S-Sir! That…it w-w-won’t ever be necessary! E-ever! I-I-I’m sorry!”

“Please don’t kill me…please oh my g-“

“……I-I understand. With their assistance…”

“The entire underground be wiped out sir. And all the souls…” Flowey smiled weakly, the glitching having increased in its intervals, which only caused him more pain. 

“W-Will b-be…y̶̷̛͠o͘͝u̸̧r̵͞͡ś̀.”


	8. A Fear Washed Away

Three things happened the instant Flowey retreated into the ground.

One: Nearly every monster in Snowdin disappeared. But instead of leaving dust, they left bodies.

Two: Mettaton stopped wanting to perform.

And three: Chara was afraid. Truly, genuinely, and authentically afraid.

And they didn’t like it. No, they abhorred it. Chara hadn’t felt fear like this since that rainstorm in the mountains, the night they ran away. Their memories of their village weren’t quite clear, but Chara, most definitely, (with vivid recollections too) remembered the fear of being caught and going back to their mother. They remembered the fear of the villagers wanting to bring them back to their hut, where Chara would be hit with a stick again. Chara remembered fearing that stick. They remembered the coursing fear that always swept through their body when they were hit in the face with it, when their mouth filled with blood from the wound.

This felt ten times worse. This felt ten times worse than fear of that stick. This felt worse than anything. Chara didn’t want to not exist again. Chara didn’t want to be…whatever they were before Frisk summoned them. They wanted those feelings again…gold…EXP…LV…they wanted those feelings again to make sure they were guaranteed existence. Because, if Frisk had enough of those things, Chara would be guaranteed control. The soul…it could be theirs.

Whether Flowey was supposed to teach Chara a lesson that something was beyond their control or whether Chara was being punished for something, they didn’t know. In fact, they couldn’t care. They were too scared to.

Even though an hour had passed since Flowey’s retreat, Chara fear still pooled in Chara’s brain like the black blood from Frisk’s wound. In fact, the image of Frisk’s near suffocation under a blob of black blood, poised by Flowey’s vines and gaping maw, devilishly poised to reap the benefits of his trickery, bled vividly into Chara’s brain. Feelings of helplessness came along for the ride, and was the straw that broke the camel’s back when it came to Chara’s stability.

So Chara did what they knew best how to do when they were alive in their village.

Hide.

They lurched forward in their panic, eager to get into the corner a few feet away. Their eyes welled with tears as they continued their effort, bewildered as to why they weren’t moving. They tugged harder and harder, trying so hard they might have been able to move Mt. Ebott an inch if they wanted to. Chara’s muscles seemed as if they were trying to move heaven and earth just to find some solace. Chara started whining as tears spilled from their panicked eyes.

“I just wann-wanna move! I just wanna move! I-I JUST WANNA MOVE I WANNA BE SAFE I DON’T WANT TO DIE PLEASE! PLEASE!” Chara kept tugging with all their might, trying to move whatever anchored them to danger, and the memories of their past. They thrashed violently, their sobs now elevated to near deafening pitches, which wavered up and down with gross sobs like a wave. 

Their efforts were useless. They were fighting an immovable object. After a while of futile effort, Chara couldn’t thrash anymore. They couldn’t scream anymore. They couldn’t make an attempt at finding comfort any longer. Their mind throbbed with overwhelming despondency, wanting to scream as a last resort. Chara wanted anything but this: their body the same way.

They slumped against the floor, defeated, as stifled escaped cries their lips las a plea for death. 

Instead, there was mercy.

Chara felt their view turn halfway, and faced the door now instead of the corner. The light was harsh, revealing, and made Chara feel ashamed of…something. But instead of moving towards the door, they moved away from it. Their mind didn’t register the movement for a few seconds. In moments, the door was no longer the object of Chara’s interest. Instead, two narrowing walls caught their interest. They seemed closer than before when Chara first turned around.

Chara didn’t get enough time to comprehend their surroundings before they felt themselves swivel around like a spinning top in the opposite direction. They gasped at what they saw. They manage to pull themselves up just out curiosity just to make sure what they saw was real. 

The corner. Chara marveled at the meeting points as if they were priceless art, and let themselves drop and push their way into the small promise of comfort. The tight, compact weight they felt washed their fears out. Chara felt something take a step back so they could squeeze themselves in even further. They peeked out from their improvised fetal position (as they had no feet) to get a look at their savior, and gasped quietly. 

Their savior was none other than the one and only Frisk. They sat on the ground with their back only a few inches away from Chara’s torso. They sensed Chara was looking at them so they turned their head around and waved to Chara, smiling a big, helpful grin. As if to say “I got you buddy.” Chara meekly waved back in shocked surprise, their mouth curling into a half disgusted, half genuinely happy smile. It was weird. This was Frisk: the person who Chara had hit multiple times, who Chara had possessed for who knows how long, and who Chara wanted to die. Chara wasn’t exactly sure how someone like them could want to help someone like _them._

Chara didn’t exactly see themselves as someone that anyone could be nice to. They were mean, they hit people, they liked to trick people to do things they didn’t want to, and on occasion, lied to people. How could anyone be nice to them?

But Frisk wasn’t just anyone.

A few moments of shocked silence filled the small, comfortable space between the two before Chara heard something scribble on a peace on a piece of paper. They didn’t dare move up towards Frisk, the obvious source of the noise, but instead wondered how well Frisk could write.

Chara giggled at the thought of Frisk’s writing being chicken scratch, unreadable to even the most skilled teacher. They kept giggling until something came in between the small sliver of light from the faraway door. The disturbance pulled Chara away from their thoughts like a fish pulled out of the water.

They had to squint to see what it was. It was a piece of paper. And on that paper, was neat, formal handwriting. The letters seemed comfortable next to each other, as if they knew each other for thousands of years and had tea every day. They rested neatly on the lines as well, not even going off of the margins. Chara couldn’t recall how many times that when they had that special paper, they went beyond the red line that the monsters down here called a “margin.”

Despite the fact Chara didn’t realize monsters invented notebook paper before humans ever did, they were still certainly surprised by the quality. After being taken aback by Frisk’s neat handwriting, they actually started to read what Frisk wrote.  
“Hey. I know you’re scared, but you must keep going. Stay determined!”

Chara didn’t say anything in response to the note for a few minutes. When they did, they blurted their words out.

“Thanks, but why are you helping me?” Chara’s voice dripped with a spur-of-the-moment impulsive snark. Frisk pulled the paper down, erased the pervious words, and held up the paper again in the light.

“Just because.” The response irritated Chara. They thought Frisk was helping them out of pity, because obviously Chara was too much of a scaredy-cat. They grunted. Frisk noticed their response and withdrew the paper again, erasing and writing more this time. 

“I really do want to help. You’re not a bad person. You’re just hurt. You…” The beginning of a word trailed off, and Frisk flipped around the paper just as Chara finished reading.

“You need a friend. To stay determined.” 

Something melted away in Chara. Maybe it was their nervousness around Frisk. Maybe it was their fear. Maybe it was both. 

Regardless of what it was, Chara reached out for the paper in Frisk’s hand. They didn’t move far, but it seemed so slow to them they may as well been climbing a ten story tree. When the finally managed to close the inches wide gap between them and Frisk’s back, they gently pressed themselves onto Frisk and reached for the paper. 

Their hands shook with an unknown feeling, and their head buzzed with something small and light.

When they grabbed the paper, they read it to themself again. And again. And again. They turned the paper around in their small, pale hands, shaking with every word read, written in that neat, clean little handwriting style Frisk had. 

After they read it enough to their own satisfaction, their heart heaved and they held the note close to their chest. They curled up again, shaking, behind Frisk’s back. Tear fell from their scrunched eyes as the words Frisk wrote replayed over and over again.

“…w-w…why…w-w-w-why…I…I…” Chara silently cried in their little ball, their tears soaking into their sweater. Not a single tear stained the note Frisk wrote.

Frisk turned around as much as they could to Chara, which was only three quarters, and hugged them. 

Chara wanted to hit Frisk at first in the hug, but soon that feeling went away. They grabbed Frisk’s little hand, size exactly the same as their own, and held it tight in the awkward, halfway hug they were in. Chara squeezed the hand tightly. Frisk smiled at the display.

After a while, Frisk let go of the hug, to which Chara involuntarily reached for again like a cat to its owner’s hand. They felt ashamed for a second, until they saw Frisk writing more down on another piece of paper. The pencil looked vaguely familiar. It had bite marks on it similar to a small goat’s. Frisk held the paper up again, breaking Chara’s attention away from the pencil.

“Let’s get through this together. We can do it. We have determination. Are you still scared?” Chara hesitated, but ultimately shook their head at the question, and in response, Frisk stood up. Chara’s body was taken with them. Chara cowered behind Frisk’s back for a second after they stood up, but quickly regained their confidence and rose above Frisk’s head. They squinted at the light from the door, but after adjusting to the light, rested their arms on the other’s fluffy brown hair. Frisk seemed to sport a more caramel colored brown than Chara’s dark chocolate shade. 

“Let’s go Frisk.” Chara said, words hesitant, but still a margin stronger than before in the corner. They took one of their hands off Frisk’s head and reached for their hand. Frisk took the other’s hand with a smile, and looked up at Chara for a signal that they were ready to go.

Chara hesitantly smiled and nodded. Frisk nodded back, and darted out of the destroyed toy room and into the hall, ready to take on anything they might encounter. Chara held onto to Frisk tightly, determined not to fall off.


	9. What's Wrong Mettaton?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "hey 34c how do we really know this is an au"  
> "well to start off mettaton NEO has functional defenses"

The second thing that happened was that Mettaton stopped wanting to perform.

Alphys noticed this quickly. Normally, he couldn’t go a day without performing. If the power went out, he’d do a live performance at the hotel and serve everyone glamburgers as he did. If that didn’t work, then he’d do a light show right out of his own circuits. It was hard for Alphys to forget the robot’s attempt to light twelve hundred neon pink lights using his own hardware.   
It busted him in nearly seven seconds.

Worried at the thought of an even more risky stunt being pulled, Alphys carefully slipped into his hot pink dressing room. She was eager to see what was wrong because she hadn’t seen him in days. Maybe a week? Either way, it was a concern. 

“Hey Mettaton. Look, if it’s your EX body you’re worried about, I could always up the grade of batteries you use!” 

No response. Alphys nervously fiddled with her claws, (which Mettaton always complained needed filing) and looked around the dressing room. Her white lab coat scattered the glitter on the floor more than it already was, and she shook it off her feet to the best she could. She couldn’t stand how the little particles felt.

“Heh…h-hey, Mettaton. Maybe I could customize it…? You could select different shades of pink…from maybe salmon t-to strawberry to…uh…rosewood, if you feel a bit dark…” Alphys gulped nervously.

No response. Again.

That didn’t soothe Alphys’ worries. What if Mettaton had broken down? What if he ran out of batteries? What if his monster soul detached itself from the body? (It happened a lot when Mettaton was getting used to being corporeal). What if he short circuited? What if he died? 

Even though ghosts like Mettaton couldn’t necessarily die, Alphys had never heard of a corporeal ghost returning after their vessel was destroyed. If the ghosts had enough attachment to whatever they inhabited, they could die along with their vessel.

“What if what what if what if…” Alphys repeated the sentence over and over in her head. 

Mettaton’s body wasn’t fragile: it was the moody, sarcastic monster inside of it that was. The one who thought of the crowd before himself. Alphys saw a flashback of when he one attached jumper cables to himself and sent a power line’s worth of electricity through himself just to get his ratings up. Alphys had to nearly rebuild him from scratch after the accident.

She couldn’t do that again. She also couldn’t stop the barrage of paranoid thoughts that ran through her head like Undyne on a treadmill. She got onto the ground and curled a fetal position, her hands on her head. If she could sweat, she would.

“Oooooh my god, what if he’s dead, what if that human Undyne was sent to kill is here and, and…and…” Alphys nearly started to cry from her own paranoia. Her thoughts battled the shreds of stability Alphys tried so hard to keep up on a daily basis. Her face went beet red and she felt everything collapsing in the room until she sensed a larger shadow being cast over her. She slowly and shakenly uncurled and tried to hide her tears and red face from the owner of the shadow.

Her eyes widened in relief when she managed to look up to the tall robot she had been crying over earlier. At first Alphys was confused with why Mettaton was so tall, but then it hit her.

He was in his EX form.

Alphys heaved a sigh of relief and ran over to hug Mettaton. She only came up a little bit short of half his body length. Alphys briefly wondered why she made him so tall.

“Me-Mettaton! Oh my god…I was looking all over for you. How long have you been-“

“About four hours.” He interrupted quite rudely, with a monotonous voice that was even unusual for stereotypical robots. Alphys felt like the pizzazz of his voice had been drained out.

“Ah. But wait, you were gone for days!”

“Yeah.” Mettaton’s eyes didn’t seem to sparkle anymore. He dully stared at Alphys with a stare that concerned her even more. What was wrong? 

Unsatisfied with the logic of his answer, Alphys nervously responded back to him. She had since let go of him.

‘’And…why? The underground missed you! Your viewers missed you! I missed you! I…” She paused, trying to figure out to make a last meaningful statement. It wasn’t easy when large, black eyes stared at you while you did it.

“You’re acting so strange. You’ve never had a performance slump like this. You’ve made the same movie 28 times in a row and you were excited for all of them!”

Mettaton didn’t say anything in response. He just sat down in his fancy pink chair, near his dressing table. Even the pink light didn’t make him seem more cheerful. It didn’t seem to kiss his face as it usually did, and Alphys knew how well Mettaton loved to look good in the light. He sent her nonstop photos of himself posing in the various spotlights poised around the core.

Alphys quickly discarded the thought and stared at Mettaton, who also stared at something. Alphys looked up to see he was staring at his own reflection. When he caught her staring at the same thing he was, he turned around slowly.

“I…” Mettaton put his head in his hand and sighed. “I’m unsatisfied with myself. I feel like I’m in my ghost body again. It’s so…depressing.” He swiveled his hair around back to the mirror.

“I mean. This body is wonderfully crafted, perfectly polished, and blindingly handsome. I could woo the underground in all this body’s glory and still have enough battery power to beat Undyne in a foot race! But…” 

Alphys watched him as he slowly touched the container where his soul was. Its translucent white surface had a bright, gentle pink light, full of potential and pizzazz. The soul looked even more brilliant in the glass it was encased in. 

Even when Mettaton was like this, Alphys loved how his soul still glowed that subtle pink. It was relieving to her. 

Mettaton was quick to bring Alphys back to the topic at hand.

“Whenever I see myself like this I can’t see anything but the ghost I once was. I even tried switching back into my other body but…no luck.” He sighed once again, and drew his index finger gracefully over the surface of his body. He was like a child who had lost interest in a toy.

Alphys started to think on how to solve the problem, but not before the aspect of Mettaton’s mood popped into her mind.

She was really taken aback by the melancholic statements Mettaton made. Mettaton, even when he was sad, was still dramatic. He still had flair. Alphys remember playing therapist when he saw a fan get crushed to death when he performed in a crowd. Even though Mettaton was mourning over the fan, he still made pompous statements about how he felt “his beauty was too much responsibility.” He also said this at the girl’s funeral, when he was addressing the family. 

He was just always so quick to make some statement that sounded confident. Alphys was always amazed by that.

She once again looked up at him. An idea popped into her mind, but she quickly shooed it away.

“No…we can’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Huh, What? Nothing! Haha…” 

Mettaton gave her a long face, as if to say he knew Alphys wasn’t just thinking about nothing. As if to say he knew she was lying. He swung the chair around to once again stare at himself in the mirror with dropped, tired eyelids. 

Alphys felt her face burn in shame, and looked down to the floor.

“Sorry. Anyway…there’s something I made a while ago. It’s still in its blueprints stages but…it’s a new body for you. Well not really new, but based off your EX form.”

Mettaton swiveled the chair around. His eyes were lit up now. The black eyes from before were gone. Alphys saw gentle pink light fill his pupils.

“Really?”

Alphys nodded. “Y-yeah! Of course, it’s only in its blueprint stages…and the body is designed to be combative. It’s fitted with Kevlar blasted steel, has a laser light cannon in development, along with a titanium and carbon-fiber skeleton, with extendable wings filled with rockets that can allow flight for long periods of time…and…and…” Alphys squealed for a second. “It also has pull out screens to watch anime on!” Alphys smiled in giddiness, and looked at Mettaton for a response with a big smile on her face.

Mettaton didn’t say anything. The silence made Alphys fiddle with her nails again.

“Uh…I can remove the screens if you want to…I mean…” She scratched her head in embarrassment. She knew those screens weren’t a good idea. 

“I-I mean…that was mostly a f-feature for meeeeEE-AAAHH!” Alphys was interrupted by a crushing hug and the sensation of being shaken.

“Oh Alphys, that’s magnificent! Never mind your silly animes, that design sounds incredible! Fantastic! Magnificent!” He dropped her on the floor and started to pose. 

“Oh yes, wouldn’t it be spectacular to see the one and only Mettaton withstand scorching flames? To see me…be an action hero?! Or maybe a renowned boxer, able to take any punch?” He poised his face and pouted in the mirror.

“All while looking sleek, fabulous, sparkling, and bedazzled?! Yes Alphys, please!” Alphys giggled as Mettaton swung her around in the hug, trying not to look down at the floor. Oh why did she have to make Mettaton 2 and half meters tall?

Mettaton stopped swirling Alphys around and lowered her down to the floor. He got on his knees and started to thank Alphys with a big, grateful smile on his face. 

“Ah…thank you Alphys. This is…is…such a wonderful thing you’re doing for me. Thank you for making me fabulous again.”

“Ahaha, don’t work Mettaton. Now, can you wait about a day for the body to be built It won’t take long because the parts can be modified from your already existing one. I had to make backups because…you never know…”

“Well that’s why you’re the royal scientist! You’re capable of _fantastic_ feats darling!”

“Mettaton, complimenting me and calling me darling won’t get these thing made faster.” 

“Duh. Sometimes people just need compliments.” Alphys smiled at his statement, and just walked to the door. She turned around briefly to let him get a glimpse of her.

“Yeah…thanks Mettaton. Oh, and before I leave, I installed a prototype weapon. It requires a monster soul…but can be wielded by the weapon! It’s…basically like an automated weapon. Also, you don’t mind chainsaws do you…?”

“Oh that sounds wonderful! And no, I do not. Bye Alphys!”

Alphys waved back to him, then quietly shut the door and walked away without another word for the rest of the day.

 

-

 

“Soooooooo, Alphys. Is it done?”

“Mettaton! Knock next time, please-!” Alphys swung around to see the tall robot standing in front of now opened door. Alphys was glad that despite his insistence on entering without knocking, he never complained about having to crouch beneath the door. Alphys shook off the thought and turned around to a dimly lit glass case.

Mettaton took a step towards the case and gasped. He had activated his pink night vision upon his entrance into Alphys’ poorly lit workshop. He paid no mind to the scattered parts and welding masks cluttered onto the floor as he walked forward. 

His eyes were focused on his prize.   
As soon as Alphys was sure that she had Mettaton’s full attention, she yanked down a lever, which caused brilliant, sterile light to fill the glass case. She had to squint for a second as she turned back to the case.

That wasn’t the case for Mettaton. He fell on his knees as if he as looking at Jesus and as if the harps in heaven were playing in full symphony. His eyes grew wide at the glorious body in front of him. 

It was created just as Alphys said: the exoskeleton parts were cast in steel, its humanoid parts finished with a dark purple finish, with polished chrome rims around all borders of his parts. The right arm was fitted with a polished laser light cannon, fully customizable with different beam colors, intensities, and size. There were also long, extendable shoulder pads shaped like the bone of a wing that held little slots for rockets. Mettaton was also amazed to see his soul encased in rosy pink bulletproof glass for protection, connecting to polished legs fitted with compelling, flashy pointed boots.   
Perfect. They would certainly help intimidate the enemy in the best way: by being too fabulous.

Alphys meanwhile, just fiddled with her claws. She had no idea how to read Mettaton. He was quite the squirrel: she could count ten times when he rejected new body designs after his EX form.

“Do you…like it…?”

“I…it’s…” Alphys braced for failure.

“It’s a work of art. It’s a masterpiece.”

“I can remodify if you need-what.”

“Oh Alphys, no modifications need to be made. Of course, I _need_ to be in this body, but that’s not a modification, that’s an improvement!”

“Actually Mettaton, that is a modif-“

“Oh shut up Alphys. Who cares?! It’s incredible! Truly inspiring! Awesome, capable of mowing down any enemy. It’s a beautiful body to inhabit.”

Alphys snarled quietly at him for the “shut up” comment. She made this body. She didn’t actually have to. She could have let his metallic ass stay in his EX form if she wanted to. 

But Alphys knew she wasn’t that cruel. And besides, she thought. He probably didn’t mean it. Mettaton always said things he didn’t mean. He was a crowd pleaser after all. 

That didn’t stop the comment from lingering in her mind.

She sighed at him, and Mettaton turned to her in response. He then turned back to the body.

“Hey Alphys…what is this form called anyway? I mean…I have the EX form…so this one is…?”

“NEO. It stands for ‘new.’”

“What a fitting name…is it ready for entrance yet? Can this body stand a little ghostie wiggling themselves into it? Can it handle corporealation?”

“Whatever that last word means, yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. It can handle you being corporeal inside it.”

Mettaton smiled at Alphys with her answer, only to be disappointed that Alphys wasn’t really paying attention to him. Something seemed to…take hold of him as he watched Alphys, consumed in her own self-hate over his comment. He didn’t know what was wrong. 

At this point though, he didn’t care. 

He simply gave a “humph” to Alphys before ejecting himself from his EX form into his new one. When Alphys lazily looked up to see the NEO body gone, she yawned with rolled eyes and walked back into the sterile, pastel colors of the wall and tile of her laboratory. The self-hatred drained her energy so much she fell asleep on the floor, without a thought of Mettaton’s wordless departure.

 

-

 

Alphys woke with a disruptive start. She groaned at her back and body, both sore from the horrible position on the floor. She always told herself she’d stop sleeping on the floor, but it never came to fruition. 

Alphys turned and pulled out the disruption from her pocket. A ringtone was buzzing wildly, caused by a text message from an unknown number. Alphys groggily smacked her lips, and sat up to view the message. Had she been fully awake, she would have deleted the message and blocked the number. But she wasn’t, so she tapped away at the screen.

“hello who the hell is this”

“Uh-uh…I’m sorry to disturb you…I shouldn’t have done this…I have terrible manners…forgive me…” The sender seemed to be in the middle of typing another long message to send to Alphys.

“dont care why r u textin me at 2 in the morning”

“Um…I’m so sorry, oh gosh, I didn’t mean it but…there is someone important y-you need…to see…”

“lmao look buddy i dont need to see anyone especially at this ungodly hour. stop texting me”

“B-but…d-don’t you know…Mettaton…?” Alphys raised an eyebrow at the text.

“duh im the monster who built him. wheres the dramabot now”

“He’s at my house. A-Also a-are yo not feeling w-well…”

“bruh if i woke u up at 2 in the morning would you be pissed”

“I uh…don’t sleep.”

“gdi just tell me wth mettaton wants”

“Well…he wants to see you…h-he’s too distressed to come himself…he wishes he could, really…”

“look bucko I have 0 clue who tf u r and i sure as hell dont need peddlers. leave me alone and-“ Alphys was interrupted by a facetime call, to which she groaned in response.

And to which she accidently pressed accept. Alphys internally cursed at herself, spitting stuff not even her diary knew she could say. When the call finally went through Alphys nearly closed it until she was interrupted by a screeching cry.

Her entire body convulsed at the sound. It sound like a squirrel thrown into a wood chipper along with three dozen cheese graters.

She was relieved when a familiar face with large, white eyes came into view of the camera. They didn’t completely block out the noise, but now it was manageable.

“Oh god Napstablook, what on Asgore is that godawful noise? Is someone dying in there?!”

“Ghosts can’t…die…”

“Yeah, they’re already dead. Cool beans, I know that. What is it though?”

“My…cousin…”

“Cousin, what? Who-oh my god.”

Napstablook turned the camera around to a pale pink ghost in the middle of the room. It was lying in a puddle of its tears.

Alphys was fully alert now, and shook at the sight of the small ghost on camera.

“B-Blooky…or Napstablook…”

“Blooky works fine…”

“B-Blooky…what…happened? What…why…why is Mettaton on your floor? Where is his NEO form…?”

Napstablook was about to answer Alphys until their grip on the phone was usurped by a more moody ghost. Mettaton shook the phone around and got tears all over the camera.

Alphys wished the tears muffled the noise that was about to come.

“THEM! THEM THEM THEM THEY TOOK MY BEAUTIFUL BODY THEY TOOK IT THEY TOOK IT THEY FORCED ME OUT OF THAT BODY THEY SAID IT’S THEIRS NOW THEY TOOK IT THEY TOOK IT _THEY TOOK IT THEY TOOK IT!!!!!_ THEY TOOK MY MAGNIFICENT BODY AND…AND…” Alphys covered her ears at the ear piercing screeches Mettaton let out. Mettaton dropped the phone on the floor in his cries, but it was quickly picked up by Napstablook. They looked at Mettaton and back to Alphys.

“So uh…could you…come over and uh…?” Alphys cancelled the call before they could finish. She tucked her phone into her pocket and dashed out of the lab.

As Alphys ran to Waterfall to comfort the ghost cousins, recollections of the previous week flashed in her mind. What if Mettaton was possessed for the time he didn’t want to perform? What if…what if the creature she talked to yesterday wasn’t Mettaton? Was that why he wanted a new body so bad? Did something else intend to use the weapons that the NEO form came with?

And with that, a single thought came into her mind.

“Who could possibly make use of a killer robot?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm pretty sure my writing is getting more polished as time goes on...


End file.
